The Best of Us Can Find Happiness in Misery
by solvethebomb
Summary: QW14. Day 2: Comfort/Fluff. When Quinn falls in with the Skanks and starts giving up, Santana steps up to be the friend she needs.


**A/N: So I decided to stick with the same general theme for Day 2 as I used for Day 1. Slightly less strict to canon, but still a part of the Glee world. I won't be writing all of the days under one theme, however. **

**A/N 2: I wrote a good portion of this on my iPhone at my desk today instead of working, so I'd like to high five America for paying me to write fanfiction. Fuck yeah. Hope you guys enjoy it :)**

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Quinn is actually at school, but she's mostly there for show. The eyes following her down the hall tell her that her new look is having the intended effect. People are staring, but not because she's perfect, not because she's a cheerleader, not because she's pregnant, not because she is **the** _Quinn Fabray_. They are staring because she isn't any of those things anymore.

Not caring feels so fucking good, even if she has to actively _try_ not to care at times. Sometimes it was easier than others. Any time her mother spoke it's easiest. It was hardest with Santana begging her not to break up the Unholy Trinity.

Listening to her once-upon-a-time best friend act like _she_ was the thing that broke their trio up had been infuriating and also somehow painful. Santana and Quinn had been a team. They had formed a friendship borne of necessity but grown out of actual affection. They were hard on each other, sure. But they were also two sides of the same coin. And Brittany was…well, Brittany. She was funny, kinder than Quinn or Santana, and she loved their little group. Without her, the Unholy Trinity would have never really existed as an entity. They would just be three friends who happened to be cheerleaders and were generally more awesome than their peers.

No, what had broken their little trifecta had been Santana and Brittany getting so deep into each other that Quinn couldn't stand to look at them any longer. Her best friend became someone else entirely around Britt, and it was fucking irritating. Almost never in 3 years of friendship had Santana been as soft with Quinn as she was with Brittany. That wouldn't really have been a problem, except that suddenly at Nationals she _was_, and it made Quinn feel hopeful for something that she couldn't exactly define but knew was absolutely out of the question.

There were many things that pained her deeply and led her to this point, but Santana Lopez was Quinn's last straw.

After New York, she came back to Lima and cut off all ties to the version of herself that she was hell bent on abandoning. Quinn was tired of being _Quinn Fabray._ She was exhausted, really. After floundering for a few weeks, she caught sight of one of the Skanks having a smoke and immediately admired the freedom she saw there. She needed a change, and this was it. So she bummed a cigarette.

It was fucking terrible. She felt like shit, her lungs hurt, her healthy body screamed at her. It was perfect. Her body felt closer to the shit mess that her mind had been for quite some time.

In a few more easy steps she transformed herself into a physical representation of the insanity that went on in her head. Gone was the pretty blonde hair. Gone were the fit-for-church sundresses. In was black, a lot of black. Not as much black as she felt, but still a lot. The tattoo hurt, but it defiled the perfect body that had been so admired by so many, that she had worked so hard for when she was still Lucy. The nose ring actually took some convincing, but she'd gotten used to it by now.

Quinn the Skank was born. Quinn the Cheerio was dead.

When she reaches her locker she pops it open without a thought, her combination still embedded in the former Quinn's memory. New Quinn isn't getting books though, she's grabbing a pack of cigarettes to bring to her new friends. Before she could reach in, however, a note falls to the floor.

Quinn bends down and picks it up, turning it over to see Santana's distinctive left-handed scrawl.

"_Q"_

One letter, written on the outside of a folded piece of paper, makes Quinn's heart thump hard in a painful protest.

_Fucking Santana._

She tucks the note in her pocket and grabs her cigarettes, vowing never to use her locker again as she slams it shut.

Quinn strides purposefully, angrily, out to where her little gang waits. She hands the pack over after taking one for herself, lighting it immediately and taking a long draw.

She hates every second of it. Hates the urge to cough, hates the singed feeling in her lungs after she exhales, hates the smell. Quinn hates it so much that she loves it. Such a simple, awful thing that always makes her feel like she deserves to feel. The only thing better was the blackout heaven she experiences after drinking herself into oblivion.

Quinn knows how to drink. It is her parents' favorite pastime, after all. Now that Russell is back in the picture and her mother is back to kissing his douchebag ass, there is always an abundance of booze in her house. And since her father doesn't actually acknowledge Quinn anymore, she can walk in the front door completely bombed and be guaranteed that she'd be left alone.

She hates that she can do that.

Quinn reaches in her pocket and feels the note. She doesn't want to read it. She really actually wants to light it on fire with her cigarette, but she knows she won't.

One of the Skanks is talking to her, but she isn't listening. She shakes her head at whatever was said and looks off towards the field where the Cheerios are practicing after school. It isn't hard to spot her.

Santana Lopez is beautiful even from afar. She is graceful and confident, her limbs always carefully under her control. So many of the girls on that field don't know to keep their own bodies from being flailing messes during tucks and flips, but Santana does. Brittany does, too. She is easy to spot as well.

Quinn fights the ache, fights the emptiness. She is happier not caring. It is so much fucking easier not to care. Looking at them makes her care more than she's capable of dealing with.

Wordlessly, she pushes herself off the wall she's leaning on and walks away, ignoring the girls calling her name. She climbs up a little known ladder behind the school and takes a seat on the flat rooftop.

This was hers and Santana's spot back in the day. They sat here and plotted their takeover of McKinley High like generals plot campaigns to win wars. They'd stopped coming when Brittany came into the picture.

The note feels heavy in her pocket, even though she knows it is just her imagination. Quinn pulls it out and stares at it for a while, certain that whatever is written inside is going to hurt, one way or another.

Santana being angry with her would hurt. Santana reaching out to her would hurt. Santana writing her off would hurt. Santana doing anything seemed to hurt lately.

With a long sigh she slowly opens the folded paper and braces herself for what she is about to read.

_Quinn-_

_I could write a very long list of things I am awesome at, and a very short list of things I'm not so awesome at. Unfortunately, I think that a lot of the things I'm not very good at are exactly what you need right now. So I'm going to try my best. Bear with me, because I'm out of my comfort zone trying to say these things._

_First off, I love you so very much. I know I say that I'm numb to other people's feelings a lot, and that is 99% true, but not to yours, Q. Never to yours. Your pain hurts me so much, because I truly do love you._

_Secondly, I want you to know that I see you. I don't think you know that, but I do. I see all of the great things in you, I see how incredibly smart you are, I see your strength. But I also see your pain, Quinn. I see how afraid you are of love because it has hurt you so much, I see your sadness, I see the emptiness you feel sometimes. Most importantly, I see that you are a survivor. I know you hurt, but I know we can beat that hurt together._

_Third, you are my best friend, bar none. I know you don't believe me because you think it's Brittany, but it's always been you. I probably should have told you that more. I'm sorry I didn't._

_Lastly, I am here for you. You don't have to talk to me, you don't have to do anything at all. I just need you to know that I am willing to do anything to help you get through this. We've made it through so much shit, Quinn. We can do anything if we stick together._

_I love you,_

_Santana_

Quinn reads the note twice, ignoring the free fall of tears on her cheeks. When she finishes it the second time she looks up to see her friend standing warily at the top of the ladder, regarding her nervously. They stare at each other for a long moment before Quinn slowly drops her chin to her chest and starts sobbing.

Santana is shaken to the core by the raw pain escaping her best friend in loud, body shaking cries. She practically runs the ten steps between them and drops down to wrap her arms around Quinn. She murmurs quietly into the broken girl's ear, telling her over and over that it will be okay and that she loves her.

The sky has begun to darken by the time Quinn's sobs slow and weaken, and she moves for the first time, picking her arms up and turning into Santana to return the hug she's been wrapped in so fiercely since she started crying.

"I'm broken, Santana. I'm so fucked up and I don't know what to do about it."

Santana is taken aback by the vulnerability Quinn has shown with that simple statement. She feels every single word deep in her heart. She can't believe she let Quinn get to this point. She especially can't believe she thought a haircut could fix this.

"We're going to fix it together, Q. You're not alone, okay? Please just don't give up."

Quinn nods silently. She's not sure she can be put back together, but she wants to stay in this embrace for as long as possible. She sighs and leans into her best friend, exhausted from crying.

Santana closes her eyes and fights the familiar feelings that arise whenever she is this close to Quinn. She has Brittany now. Quinn is straight. She's so fucking irritated with herself because she needs to be a friend, not a friend with an eternal crush on her best friend.

They sit in silence for a long time, until Quinn shivers in the darkness.

"You cold?" Santana asks quietly.

"Yeah, but I don't want you to let me go."

"Here, take my Cheerios jacket then."

Quinn looks up at Santana in surprise as she stands to whip her jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders.

"But you'll get cold," Quinn interjects with a frown.

"Maybe, but I told you I'll do anything and I meant it. So if we have to stay up here all night and talk, that's what we're going to do."

Santana shrugs, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world and then sits back down, putting her arm around her former captain and pulling her close.

Quinn runs a hand through her mess of pink and blonde hair, considering her friend's statement, then tilts her head to rest on Santana's shoulder.

"I don't even know where to start. I don't know how to explain how fucking shitty I feel all the time. It's like a void...a vacuum. My heart always feels so empty. It hurts."

Santana just nods, uncertain what the right thing is to say. She silently curses herself for sucking so bad at this. She thinks about when she felt the absolute lowest, trying to identify with where her best friend is right now.

"You know, I felt really similar when I realized for sure that I'm gay. It just all felt so hopeless. I had no idea what was going to happen to me if anyone found out, I thought my life was pretty much over. I didn't know how to make it stop hurting. Sometimes it still does, but it got a lot better. I don't know how exactly to help you yet, I just want you to know that it can and will be better."

This is the first time Santana has ever said the words "I'm gay" to another person, and she feels a flare of fear after she finally utters it out loud.

Quinn sits quietly for a moment, surprised that Santana has finally admitted something she has suspected for a long time. She knows it's big for her to say it now.

"Why didn't you tell me? Maybe I could have helped you feel better somehow."

Santana sighs.

"I didn't want to freak you out or something."

Quinn shakes her head and turns to look her friend in the eye.

"I don't care, Santana. I just want you to be happy. I love you the same as I always have."

She lets out a little humorless laugh and word vomits unexpectedly.

"Hell, if anything I still love you too much."

Santana's brow furrows. She's not sure how to take that.

"Too much how?"

Quinn is silently panicking, uncertain how to parlay this slip to save their friendship.

"Nothing, never mind."

Santana leans farther away from Quinn and studies her face. This is important, she needs to know what was meant by "too much," but Quinn is fragile and needs her help, not an interrogation. Santana's conflicted expression is read easily by her friend, who sighs deeply.

"There have been times, many times, where I have felt a certain...pull, I guess...towards you. I-"

Quinn looks up to the sky and fights the tears that are forming. They were so close to being besties again, and she's going to ruin it. She raises her hands slightly and shrugs, her fingers downward and her palms facing out in a helpless gesture.

"I want you sometimes, like...more than a friend. But I know you're with Brittany and I would never act on it, it's just something I've always felt, really since the first day I met you. It breaks my heart too, I didn't say anything because I never wanted to ruin our friendship and somehow I fucked it up anyway."

The tears finally slide down her cheeks as she rushes out words she never wanted to say.

Santana sits absolutely still and processes what Quinn just told her. She'd been right about the feelings between them all along. It really was mutual. Santana reaches out to take Quinn's hand and looks her firmly in the eye when hazel irises turn to her.

"You didn't fuck anything up. It would take a hell of a lot more to ruin this, okay? I...I felt the pull too. Ever since the beginning. I've always loved you too much, and I'm not about to stop. You're still my best friend."

Quinn smiles genuinely for the first time in a long time.

"Now I wish I'd said something sooner. I've always wondered what it'd be like to kiss you," she admits with a light laugh.

Santana inhales sharply. She doesn't know what to say to that, so she just acts. In half a second she's on her knees in front of Quinn, carefully cupping her face and looking into her eyes intently before carefully dipping her head to gently, slowly caress Quinn's lips with her own.

It's a soft, tender moment. Santana takes her time, intent on showing this amazing girl just how much she adores her.

Quinn relishes the affection she feels, understanding the intention behind the kiss. It's about Santana telling her that she has always and will always be truly loved.

When Santana pulls back she reaches her hands out to pull Quinn up to her feet. She wraps her friend in her arms and hugs her fiercely.

Quinn leans into the embrace, her thoughts still on the kiss they just shared.

"San..."

Santana immediately knows what Quinn is trying to say and answers her incomplete thought.

"I'm going to tell her. She'll understand, don't worry. It's fine."

"Tell her I'm sorry."

"Are you sorry?"

Quinn is quiet, because she isn't sorry. She doesn't want to ruin what her best friends have, but she will treasure that kiss for as long as she lives.

"No."

Santana turns her head to softly kiss Quinn's temple.

"Good, neither am I. That needed to happen. I love you, Q. Let's go back to my house and talk, okay? It's fucking freezing out here."

Quinn nods and follows her friend down the ladder. Santana takes her hand as soon as both of their feet are on the ground and doesn't let go until they make it back to her house and into her bedroom.

They talk late into the night, Quinn in tears for most of their conversation. Santana mostly listens, occasionally interjecting or wrapping her friend in a tight hug when the tears become too much. Eventually they fall asleep, both in Santana's Cheerios sweats, their hands intertwined throughout the night.

Santana awakens first and lies quietly, studying the beautiful face before her. She loves Brittany, she really does, but she knows how easy it would be to fall in love with Quinn. There has always been something more, that pull, between them. It has kept them from completely unraveling so many times, drawing them back in when their friendship floundered hopelessly.

It's confusing and painful, feeling this way for the two people closest to her. Santana has always struggled with allowing herself to be vulnerable, yet somehow has managed to allow Brittany and Quinn so deep inside of her heart that it actually terrifies her.

She knows that Brittany loves her, but Britt also put her on the back burner for Artie. If she was actually _in love_ with Santana, she wouldn't have chosen him over her. She wouldn't have been able to. Not only that, but Santana knows that Brittany really will be okay with her kissing Quinn last night, and what does that say? And what does it mean that she didn't even really consider _not_ kissing Quinn when the opportunity presented itself?

On the other hand, Quinn needs to get her shit straight. Getting involved with her at the moment is a terrible idea, and would probably ruin their chances of making it together and destroy their friendship as well. But the urge to kiss the gorgeous blonde next to her is so much stronger than she anticipated. She's been burying this feeling for three years and in one night it has been unearthed with a vengeance.

Quinn opens her eyes and studies the deep brown ones looking back at her. She can see, without a word being spoken, that Santana is struggling with something. Something big.

The brunette closes her eyes and lets out a heavy puff of air through her nose before turning away. It's all too much right now.

"What is it?" Quinn asks quietly.

Her best friend shakes her head, lost for words. All at once, Quinn just _knows_.

"Santana. Hey Santana, listen to me."

Wary eyes come back to hers, and Quinn feels a sudden strength. She knows what she needs to tell her best friend.

"I love you, San. I really do. And my feelings for you are probably not going to go away anytime soon, considering they've stayed with me for three years. But you and I both know that this can't happen right now. You don't need to feel conflicted, because I couldn't let you choose me even if you wanted to. I need you so much, but I'm not anywhere near ready to have you as more than a friend. Maybe someday, but not now."

Santana nods and sighs deeply. She knows Quinn is right and she's thankful for the reprieve, even if it kind of sucks to hear "no" from this girl that she has wanted for so damn long. She doesn't know how to say any of the things she is feeling, so she just keeps her mouth shut and stares at the ceiling.

"So…still got that bottle of peroxide?" Quinn asks with a smile, looking to ease the tension that has settled over her best friend.

Santana brightens immediately and turns to look at her.

"Damn right I do. Let's go fix that hot mess."

The former blonde frowns.

"I don't think it looks that bad. You don't like it?"

Santana looks away while she considers her answer. In truth, she think Quinn looks pretty hot as a Skank, in an objective sense. But as her friend, as someone who cares about her deeply, Santana sees the hair and the clothes for what they are—a way to hide away from the pain.

"Uhh...well, I don't dislike it really. Only you could even come close to pulling this look off. But it doesn't really look like you. It looks like you hiding yourself from things that hurt."

Quinn nods, unsurprised that Santana picked up on the reason behind her changed look.

Santana hops out of bed and walks into her bathroom, emerging with a bottle of peroxide and a smile.

"Ready?"

Quinn takes a deep breath and then follows her into the bathroom.

In no time the pink is gone and Quinn is just Quinn again. She stares in the mirror, uncertain why it doesn't hurt as much to look at herself, but thankful nonetheless. Santana steps up next to her and they regard each other in the reflection. Quinn feels braver with those brown eyes on hers and she looks down with a smile.

"Thank you, Santana. I needed you and you were there. I don't know how long it will take for me to feel right again, but at least I've taken a step."

"I'll help you get there, Q. One step at time."

Quinn looks back at herself in the mirror.

"It's weird, like I haven't really seen myself for months."

"Well let me be the first to welcome you back, Quinn Fabray. I have missed you so very much," Santana says sincerely.

Quinn smiles softly.

"I missed you too, San."


End file.
